RockStarPeach

rockstarpeach

It’s eight o’clock in Boise, Idaho.

Dean, apparently, thinks that fact is amusing, but Castiel doesn’t understand why.

Have a good show, he texts back, instead of It’s nine o’clock in Kansas, and he’s half hard as he wonders if he’ll be able to watch any clips of the show on Youtube later. He’s almost considering asking Dean to call him when he’s alone, but that would probably be a bad idea. He’s never had phone sex before and he suspects he wouldn’t be very good at it.

Besides, Dean will probably be busy.

It’s been three weeks since he’s seen Dean and he misses him more than he’d like.

***

Castiel’s fifth date with David (on which he’d invited David to his apartment to watch a movie and show off his under-utilised cooking skills) ends with David blowing him on his couch while the movie plays, forgotten.

It’s good. Warm and wet and Castiel returns the favour by jerking David off and showing him to the door as soon as they’ve cleaned up.

When he’s alone again, shirtless and comfortable in the worn cotton of his pyjama bottoms, he turns on the radio. 12 Gauge is playing. Naturally.

Castiel sits back on the couch with a newly filled glass of wine and closes his eyes, wishes that it had been Dean tonight. He knows it’s unfair to everyone involved and wishing won’t change anything but he can’t help it.

He wants Dean. Not just when they both happen to have the time (although he knows that’s an inevitable consequence of dating someone who’s constantly on the road) but he wants him in those between times as well. Wants phone calls, frequent ones. Letters, not just text messages but actual letters, wants to know everything there is to know about Dean. Wants to know that Dean feels it just as much as Castiel does when they’re not together.

Wants to know that Dean wants him. Only him.

But it’s not going to happen.

The problem isn’t that Dean doesn’t like him enough. He knows Dean likes him, a lot, and to say otherwise would be both completely untrue and an insult to both of them. The problem, if Castiel even wants to call it that when really it’s just dumb, stupid circumstance, is that Dean’s lifestyle, his attitude, doesn’t allow for the kind of relationship that Castiel is looking for.

***

When Dean calls him a week later he has to nod apologetically to the woman sitting next to him in the stands and head toward the relative quiet of the parking lot to answer the call. He’s watching a baseball game. David plays on a local league and Castiel had been sitting with the wives and girlfriends and children, watching.

He’s not a very avid baseball fan, but David looks nice in his uniform. Also, Castiel has been trying to develop an interest in David’s interests. He wants to like him. It’s going about as well as you might think.

“Cas!” comes Dean’s booming voice over the speaker.

“Hello Dean,” he answers, smiling at how happy Dean sounds.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No,” Castiel tells him and darts a glance back at the field, where one half of the crowd – he’s not sure which – erupts into applause. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, if you really want to make my day you can send me some naked pictures,” Dean says, and Castiel’s smile widens, “But I mostly just wanted to hear your voice.”

Castiel’s heart breaks a little, because it’s times like this that he thinks they might actually have something. That they might end up together and committed and one of MTV’s ‘Top 50 Cutest Couples’. They never, ever will.

“Well,” he answers, keeps it light. “I can tell you all about my meeting yesterday with the owner of one of the local garages. His jingle is tragic and he thinks we’re charging too much for a twenty second air spot. I must warn you though, the story includes violence, coarse language and slight nudity.”

Dean laughs and the sound creates a comfortable ball of warmth in Castiel’s belly. “You know just how to get my attention. I’m all ears, Cas.”

Castiel can picture him, sitting somewhere, on a couch in a hotel or on a comfortable bus seat. Maybe backstage somewhere, waiting on a sound check.

They talk for half an hour and by the time he gets back to the field David’s game is over.

He congratulates David on a win he doesn’t see and tells him out of the blue, after David drops him off at home, “I wrestled in high school. Once. I wasn’t very good at it.”

David just gives him a funny look and kisses him quickly before getting into his car and taking off down the road.

Castiel feels more guilty about that one small admission than he does about any of the sexual encounters they’ve shared.

***

Dude, I just met Eddie Van Halen. Eddie Van fucking Halen! In a bar. Sam’s so drunk he’s trying to hit that. It’s actually pretty funny.

***

Eddie shot Sam down (no surprise) but Alex accidentally slipped me the tongue. It was fuckin’ sweet.

***

I’m drunk. And horny.

And lonely.

How come you’re so far away?

***

Sam just made me watch The English Patient. I’m currently plotting his death.

***

Castiel sends his reply when he’s alone with the radio on at the end of a long day.

I wouldn’t be too hard on him. Ralph Fiennes is hot.

***

David invites Castiel to his sister’s wedding.

He should say yes. He even wants to say yes. Wants something pleasant and normal with the potential for serious and David seems to be willing. Castiel even mostly likes him by now, can sometimes picture them together, sharing the morning paper and trading kisses while they sip coffee and fight over the business section, David playing Frisbee with his dog in Castiel’s backyard while Castiel grills them steaks and corn on the cob for supper.

He can see it and it makes him feel… okay. Even good, sometimes.

So yeah, he should say yes.

What he does, is panic and tell David he can’t make it because he’s getting root canal that weekend.

Castiel has never had a cavity in his life.

Dean knows that about him.

***

Adam and I made cookies. From scratch. I’ll send you some. I promise they’re edible.

***

Sam asked Nick out again and the fucker didn’t even say ‘no’. Just rolled his eyes and walked away. I’m gonna fuck that dude up.

***

Castiel does, in fact, get a box of homemade cookies in the mail from Dean. They’re a little stale, but they’ve been wrapped well and they don’t actually taste too bad.

He shares them with Gabriel, who keeps looking at him with a strange expression.

“Okay, what?” he finally asks, letting out a harsh puff of air.

“Don’t BS me here, Cas,” Gabriel says. “You’re way too far gone to tell me you’re ‘fine’. Just please. If he’s not what you need, promise me you’ll figure it out before two fucking years is up.”

Castiel bristles.

“He’s nothing like Kevin.”

“No, but you’re still you.”

Castiel can’t argue with that, so he eats too many cookies and has to call in sick to work the next day. He doesn’t tell Dean about that though. He might take it wrong.

***

Twister is the best game EVER.

***

Pull my finger.

***

We’ll be in Little Rock on Wednesday. Not too far. Wanna hook up?

***

It’s a first. Dean asking him instead of just sending tickets. It’s another first when Castiel responds.

***

Can’t. Busy.

***

It’s a lie, of course. He’s not busy, he’s afraid.

He doesn’t get a reply back from Dean but he doesn’t really expect one.

***

He doesn’t hear from Dean for another two weeks. No phone calls, no texts, no random gifts.

In a way he’s glad. It takes some of the pressure off.

When Dean finally breaks radio silence it’s with a cheerful sounding phone call during which Dean informs Castiel that he’ll be back in Kansas on the weekend.

The band has a short break, a few days off, and they’ve decided to come home to Lawrence.

“You gotta come, man,” Dean wheedles once he’s told Castiel about the get-together they’re having on Saturday for a small group of family and friends. “I haven’t seen you in… fucking forever. I don’t want you forgetting what I look like.”

Dean’s voice is light, but Castiel can’t help but think, with deep sincerity, that there’s no way in hell that could ever happen.

“I don’t know,” he answers, because he doesn’t. He knows he should keep backing off, keep putting space between them, because Castiel doesn’t want to end up broken and hollow when Dean decides he’s had enough. Or when Castiel does.

David has been pressuring him for a commitment he can’t make and he knows that it’s because of Dean.

“Cas… Please,” Dean says, and he doesn’t even need to go on, because Castiel is putty in his hands with just that word. “We’re headed to fucking Canada for three weeks after this, and I just…”

“I’ll be there.”

***

Dean’s home (Sam’s too, he supposes, as Dean’s told him it’s a family home, one the two of them lived in with their parents, before their mother, then their father, had passed on) is a modest two-story in a quiet neighbourhood.

He doesn’t know why he’d expected something bigger, grander, but he’s disappointed in himself for it. He should know Dean better than that.

He parks his car in the driveway like Dean told him to, on the right side and closest to the closed garage door. It’s just past three in the afternoon, the party isn’t in full swing yet, but there are still half a dozen other cars parked up and down the street and there is cheerful music and laughter coming from the backyard.

The lawn is almost obsessively manicured and Castiel somehow just knows that it’s Dean’s doing. He can picture him, out here as the sun beats down, pushing the mower across the yard in perfect lines, celebrating with a cold beer while he sits back on the porch steps and admires his hard work.

Dean greets him with a smile and the clap of a hand on his bicep, makes sure he feels welcome but doesn’t spend so much time with him that people might start to wonder, to ask questions.

He’s introduced to some of Dean’s close friends, some of the people he considers family even though they aren’t (because Sam and Adam and Christian are the only blood relatives he’s got left) and Castiel makes polite conversation, taking his cues from Dean about the nature of their relationship.

It’s not as if he expects Dean to announce to the entire group that the two of them are intimate, but it still stings a little when he stands a socially acceptable distance from Castiel and is careful not to touch him too much. Castiel loves to touch Dean and not being allowed to is almost like torture.

Castiel has a few of Adam’s famous mojitos, has one of Dean’s steaks from the grill (better than his own, he has to admit) and enough potato salad to fill him up.

He talks to a few more people on his own and they all seem to like him well enough, but he can’t help but wonder what they’d think if they knew about him and Dean. Would they be just as welcoming? More so? Or would they look at him funny, whisper behind his back because they know Dean will never settle down, especially not with a man, and Castiel is only passing entertainment?

***

Dean flirts shamelessly with a small blonde girl. Castiel keeps his seat on the corner of the back deck and clutches his sangria like it’s precious. He’s not drunk, but that’s only because he’s got a remarkable tolerance.

“Jo,” Christian leans in and tells him, even though he didn’t ask. “She’s wanted him for years but it’s never going to happen.”

He wonders, for a moment, why Christian isn’t telling him about how Dean and Jo fuck every second Tuesday (even if it isn’t true), but then a lovely, dark-haired woman, with a welcoming smile and perfect posture sits down next to Christian at the picnic table.

“Hi!” She says brightly, leaning over Christian and holding out her hand for Castiel to shake. “I’m Arlene. Christian’s wife.”

He smiles at the woman and squeezes her hand gently. “It’s nice to meet you, Arlene. I’m Castiel. A friend of Dean’s.”

They talk for another twenty minutes before Christian gets bored and drags his wife away. Castiel goes back to watching Dean and Jo. They’re lying next to each other on the grass, pointing every once in a while at the stars in the sky and passing a cigarette back and forth. Or maybe it’s not just a cigarette, Castiel’s not certain.

It’s late now, past eleven, and mostly everyone has gone. He’s almost a little surprised when Dean helps Jo to her feet, kisses her on the cheek and walks her to the patio table where her mother and step-father are sitting. He leaves the three of them to find their car as he makes his way across the yard to Castiel. He’d half expected them to sneak off together.

“Hey,” Dean says, smiling at him and waving to a few of the stragglers as they finish clearing out.

“Hey yourself,” Castiel answers and he wants to grab Dean, pull him in and kiss him stupid. Fuck him stupider.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

***

It’s not even half past eleven, the last of the guests having left not thirty seconds ago, when Dean drags Castiel through the house and up the stairs.

It’s not a minute after that that they’re both naked, Castiel face down on the mattress in what was probably Dean’s childhood bedroom, Dean’s hands clamped down tightly on his hips as he fucks into him from behind.

“Oh my God,” Dean says, panting and thrusting in deep, hard strokes. “Holy shit, Cas. I’ve fucking missed this.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything to that, just groans and bows further, tilts his hips up so Dean sinks in even deeper, hitting his prostate and making him crazy.

Castiel grips his own cock, pumps it briefly before Dean’s hand joins his. They stroke together a few times, a few more and Castiel’s ass is aching from how hard Dean is fucking into him but he doesn’t care. Loves it.

“I’m gonna…” Dean says, his hips stutter and then he pushes in even harder, if it’s possible. “I’m gonna… fuck, Cas.”

Castiel comes then, can’t hold back even a second longer. His spend pulses out over Dean’s fingertips and his own, lands on the bed sheets below them and as he starts to come down he cranes his neck, presses his lips to Dean’s jaw.

“I dislike your cousin Christian. He’s a dick and his wife is too good for him.”

“Cas… Jesus.”

“I was prepared to fuck Sam that first night. I wanted you, but I would have settled.”

“Holy fucking…” Dean barely gets the words out before he’s pressing Castiel down flat against the bed, jerking into him again and again on soft cries of pleasure until he’s spent.

“Was it good for you?” Castiel teases, almost smirking when Dean rolls to the side.

“Jesus Christ, Cas… Don’t fucking tell me you want to fuck my Goddamn brother when I’m about to shoot my load, okay?”

Castiel can’t help but laugh – the vibrations of Dean’s own laughter are pulsing through his body, coaxing it out of him. “It didn’t seem to affect your performance.”

“Dude, you try fucking you and see if anything can throw you off track.”

Castiel doesn’t mention that when he fucks himself all he thinks about is Dean and it’s very hard to get sidetracked.

Dean strips off the condom and rolls them over, out of the wet spot. He curls up around Castiel, arm around his waist and nuzzles into the back of his neck.

Castiel is asleep within minutes.

***

He wakes up sometime later. The clock next to the bed reads 2:18am and he’s alone.

A brief flash of panic rips through him before he realises he’s in Dean’s house, so it’s not exactly as if Dean can ditch him here. Besides, he’s snuck out on Dean more than once while he was sleeping, so turnabout would be fair play in this situation.

He blinks and listens, hears noise, voices coming from somewhere in the house, so he gets up and quietly crosses the room. When he opens the door the voices get louder and he can pinpoint their location – the living room downstairs – and he can tell clearly that they’re coming from Dean and Sam.

He’s halfway down the stairs before he hears his name and then he stops. Eavesdropping isn’t something he was raised to do, but somehow he can’t help it. He stays there on the stairs, where he can just see the brothers through a slight haze – incense and marijuana, it smells like. They’re sitting next to each other on the couch, Adam on a second couch opposite them and their attention seems to be split between conversation and the video game they’re playing.

“Seriously dude,” Dean is saying. “It’s like some fucked up form of Tourette’s. We can’t even get through a damn hand job without him telling me about his sister’s first report card or some shit.”

“Hey,” Sam says and twists up his face as something unfortunate happens to his on-screen avatar. “If it’s too weird for you pass him on over. I sure wouldn’t kick him out of bed.”

Dean puts his hand on the side of Sam’s face and pushes until Sam almost falls off the couch. “Don’t even think about it,” he says. Sam just laughs. “It is a little weird. But you wanna know the really fucked up thing?”

“Your face?”

“Ha ha. Dick. No, what’s really fucked up is I actually kinda get off on it.”

Sam snorts and then curses when Dean’s character kicks his in the head. “So, what? You guys are doin’ it and you’re thinkin’ ‘This is great and all, but what would really get me goin’ is some kind of talk about dead fish and vomit?’ You got issues, man.”

Sam’s character lands a solid punch to Dean’s and the animated man falls flat on his face.

“Don’t I know it,” Dean grumbles, mashing at buttons until his avatar is once again standing. “That girl I was with last week?”

“The blonde or the redhead?” Sam asks absently.

“Dean,” Adam says. It’s the first Castiel has heard him speak. “You might want to shut up.”

Sam and Dean both turn their heads then to look at him. They guffaw simultaneously and then turn back to the game. “You might want to blow me,” Dean mumbles and Sam laughs.

Adam rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“So?” Sam asks again. “Blonde or redhead?”

“I didn’t fuck the redhead,” Dean says and Castiel feels cold. He has no claim on Dean and some of that might even be his own fault for never attempting to lay one. It still hurts to think about Dean being with other people. It’s even worse to hear about, but he still keeps quiet, still listens.

“So the blonde, then.”

“Yeah. Anyway, we’re just gettin’ to the good part when all of a sudden I stop, and I’m looking down at her like ‘Okay, so tell me about how you had a crush on your seventh grade teacher’. I think she thought I was retarded or something.”

“She wasn’t far off the mark,” Sam digs and Dean punches him in the arm hard enough to make him wince.

“Dude, I’m like… tryin’ to share here, and you’re just being an asshole.”

Sam sighs heavily and pauses the game, relaxes into the plush cushions at his back.

“Dean, did you maybe think that you weren’t waiting to hear about her crush on her teacher, but Castiel’s?”

Dean frowns, the muscles pulling tight around his eyes and he looks so damnably adorable that Castiel wants to kiss him. “Dude, I wasn’t that drunk.”

“No, I mean… Maybe the problem wasn’t that she didn’t hit your crazy new kink, you big freak. Maybe it was because she wasn’t Cas. Dean, maybe… maybe you like him.”

Dean’s frown deepens.

“Of course I like him. I wouldn’t keep seeing him if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have invited him to our fucking house.”

“Yeah, and you introduced him to Bobby and Ellen as your ‘buddy’. I notice how you left out the ‘butt’ part.”

“Jesus Christ. What did you switch bodies with Christian or something? What’s with the asshole routine?”

“Sorry, I know. Just… Dean, did you ever think that maybe you want more than what you guys have right now? I know, I know,” he says, waving a hand at Dean when Dean opens his mouth to protest. “I know you’re not ready to be on the cover of Rolling Stone announcing your big gay love or anything. But maybe it’s time you should really think about this thing with Cas. That guy… he’s into you, Dean. And not just because you have money and you’re so very pretty.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m just saying. If you don’t make a serious move soon, he’s gonna move on.”

“Dude! I’m not… Who said anything about serious? We’re happy with things the way they are. I like him, Sam, but I also like my life, my freedom. And so does he. What we have works, man. Besides, what the fuck more does he want? I’ve practically been panting after him like a love-sick puppy for Goddamn months.”

“Which should maybe tell you something. Don’t let the fact that he’s a guy stop you.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re queer as a three dollar bill.”

“Yeah, and you’re not exactly straight, Dean. I know you usually prefer girls, but it’s not as if Cas is your first guy. Just… keep an open mind.”

“Mind your own business,” Dean mumbles.

After a few beats of silence the game starts up again and a handful of seconds after that Castiel continues down the stairs. He makes enough noise to be noticed this time and when he’s close enough Adam tosses a fourth game controller at him.

He’s about to politely decline, but then Dean smiles at him, bright and expectant and Castiel sits down in the free seat next to Adam. He’s still not much for video games but he’ll do anything if it means Dean will smile at him like that.

Within seconds Dean has reset the game for four players and turned up the volume. Castiel mashes a few buttons but it becomes clear very quickly that Super Smash Brothers Melee is not his game.

“So hey,” Dean says, elbowing Sam in the ribs. “I haven’t seen you hook up with anyone all week. What gives?”

Sam blushes. It looks almost as adorable on him as it does on Dean.

“Nick asked me out,” he says. “Well, more like he finally said ‘yes’ to the like, two dozen times I asked him out, but whatever. I figured it would be really shitty of me to fuck someone else before we had a chance to go on even one date.”

“He finally grew a pair, huh?” Dean asks, smiling.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Me?” Dean asks, high-pitched and faux-innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Adam snickers and says, “Dean threatened to fire him if he didn’t go out with you.”

“You what?! Dean, that’s illegal!”

“Oh, sorry,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t realise we were all such law-abiding citizens around here – hey Adam, pass me a spliff - but if it makes you feel better I can take it back. Just offer him some cash to tap your ass a few times. What do you think? A thousand?” He looks Sam up and down and pretends to consider it. “Better make it two.”

“Oh, you son of a…” Sam seethes and as they continue to trash talk, their characters concentrate very carefully on pounding each other into the ground.

Adam leans over after a moment and speaks to him, low so that only he can hear over the clatter of the television. “Dean wasn’t trying to be a jerk. All that stuff he was saying to Sam? He likes you, but he can’t figure you out and he’s been burned before.”

Castiel is momentarily taken aback, unaware that Adam knew he’d been listening.

He’s saved from having to respond, though, because Sam swears loudly and Dean cheers with glee, sticking his pointed finger into his brother’s chest with some force. “Eat it, bitch!”

“Oh, fuck that. This game sucks anyway. I’m gettin’ out the Atari.”

“I’ll kick your ass at that too, man,” Dean tells him. “I still have high score on Centipede.”

“Well get off your lazy ass and help me get it. I think it’s buried under about a dozen boxes in the basement.”

“Awww, you need a big strong man to help with the heavy lifting, Samantha?”

“Fuck you.”

Dean and Adam both snicker but Dean gets up and follows him into the basement.

It’s quiet for several seconds before Adam pushes back on the couch to get more comfortable.

“I don’t know if Dean’s told you anything about Lisa,” he says, and Castiel waits for more, but nothing comes.

“His girlfriend,” Castiel says and Adam nods. “They broke up after you started touring.”

“Yeah. Not every relationship can handle that sort of thing. But uh… when they were together, he never once cheated on her. And it wasn’t his idea to end things. For what it’s worth.”

They hear a loud crash from downstairs and Adam rolls his eyes.

“Why do I never see you with anyone?” Castiel asks. He knows Dean makes friends wherever he goes, and most of the time he sees them Sam has hooked up with someone as well. He hardly sees Christian at all, but Adam is always around, somewhere, and as far as Castiel knows, he doesn’t share his bed.

“I have a girlfriend,” Adam smiles. “Back home in Minnesota. She’s in med school, so she can’t really take time off to come see me. Once this tour’s over though, I’m gonna head back there for a while. I’m really looking forward to it.”

Castiel nods but doesn’t say anything. It’s good, he thinks. Adam is a good guy.

Dean and Sam come back upstairs shortly after that and none of them gets to bed again until the sun comes up.

***

A week later he happens to catch five minutes of one of the seedier entertainment gossip shows just before the eleven o’clock news.

He sees Dean, which is unusual because his band usually go out of their way to avoid the public eye, but it looks like this time Dean and Sam got caught. They’re in what appears to be a limo and Sam is straddling a man’s lap. He’s older, blond and sort of scruffy looking, and slightly smaller than Sam. He almost looks like he’s being crushed. Like it would be unpleasant, even comical, if not for the fact that Sam has a hand down his pants and the man is clearly only a few scant moments from orgasm.

He sincerely hopes that the man is Nick, or Sam is going to have some explaining to do.

Dean is on the other end of the large bench seat, a beer in his hand and his head tilted back, eyes closed and mouth open. There’s a girl on the floor between his legs and there’s a pixelated blur over what is very obviously Dean’s cock sliding in and out of her mouth.

It’s clear that none of them is aware of the camera on them, shaky and unfocussed, as if from a cell phone, and Castiel feels bad for them. He feels bad for himself as well. Seeing Dean with someone else cuts worse than knowing about it, even hearing about it. It’s stark, shocking proof. It shatters any far-off notions and half-dreams he might have been hanging on to.

It’s then that he realises once and for all that he can’t keep doing this.